


Psychopomp

by Pain_And_Friendly_Advice



Series: Reapers [1]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Death, Demon Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Villanos and Heroic crews coexist, Voyeurism, everyone is all kinds of fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-12 21:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15348840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pain_And_Friendly_Advice/pseuds/Pain_And_Friendly_Advice
Summary: You've witnessed plenty of ungodly things since you crawled back out of hell, but nowhere else is the weirdness more concentrated than Hat Island. Your job may be shepherding dead souls, but here you find that beings of substance are constantly made your first concern. Human or no, someone still living gives you trouble at every turn, and all you have are a heightened sense of smell and a healthy respect for sarcasm.





	1. Cloud of Unknowing

Hat Island: a place of curious balance. Ambiguous in origin, an inconsistent location somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle. An anomaly in countless regards. That’s where you were headed, though whether a shabby little boat could make the journey was cause for skepticism.

  
You had a somewhat unusual name- the moniker had been handed to you sometime after you had climbed out of the pits of Hell to take on a rather unusual job. The details of your… ascension were murky; most of the memories around that time sat gooey in the back of your mind, as though caked in so many layers of warm vaseline.

  
The past wasn’t important. What mattered now was the job. You supposed the best term to describe it would be “grim reaper”, although most would assume otherwise, you rarely needed to kill anyone, and instead collected souls _after_ death had struck down the mortal form.

  
You had often scoffed at the phrase “struck down”, as the deaths you witnessed were better described as “splattered across many surfaces” or “horribly mutilated and left to rot”. Which is why you were being sent to Hat Island. Not surprisingly, the place was lousy with lingering souls, and someone ‘ _upstairs_ ’ had seen fit to have the problem tended to.

  
So, there you sat, waiting for the ferry to set sail. You were just a stout little she-demon who resembled a regular human girl- with the exception of a pair of little goat-like horns protruding from the top of your head. Pretty boring as far as demonic forms go, but whatever got you mostly ignored by people was actually preferable in your mind.

  
It was an oddly chilly day for summer in Florida, and the breeze seemed to cut straight through you. Grumbling, you pulled your oversized black hoodie tighter around yourself.

  
“Anchors aweigh…” said a wheezing voice, as the boat groaned to life and puttered away from the shore.

  
A few moments later, the captain hobbled onto the deck where you were sitting, curled up and grimacing. “What be the matter, lass?” He queried, his accent and comically skeleton-like gait failing to improve your demeanor.

  
“It’s too damn cold and my nipples hurt.” You said sourly. The old corpse of a man barked a wheezing laugh in reply.

  
You winced at the sound. You didn’t have much of a filter when you were unhappy, and it often got you into trouble. Or uncomfortable situations, at the very least.

  
The boat lurched to one side suddenly as the wind picked up, interrupting your angry thoughts. “Is someone else steering this thing? Or… what?” You hadn’t noticed the storm moving in.

  
The captain grinned down at you, his sole passenger, lips pulled taut over decaying teeth. “Er WHAT.” He cackled, stepping casually overboard. “Good luck, lassie!” You heard him gurgle somewhere among the waves.

  
You clenched your jaw and stared out into the darkening waters. There was no getting used to hanging around dead people.

  
  


* * *

  
  
Several hours and a few full-body enemas later, you found yourself nearing a dock. The sun was setting behind a thick fog, but there should have been enough light to see… anything else. But all your eyes could find was the single, empty dock stretching away into sickly grayness.

  
You hacked up another lungful of seawater as the battered vessel gently bumped into the wood and bobbed there as though waiting for you to disembark. Exhausted, you picked your soggy self up and flopped onto the dock, all too eager to get onto something more solid.

  
As you lay there in a woeful puddle, you could feel the vibrations of footsteps hurrying toward you. A small group of humans appeared from the fog, wearing singed white lab coats and grasping battered suitcases, all looking reasonably terrified. “The boat…!” One of them said breathlessly. “Hurry!”

  
They all piled into the wreck you had just climbed out of, apparently eager to get away from something. So much so, they ignored you entirely and shoved off, vanishing before long into the encroaching night.

  
You felt your bones crack and muscles groan as you stood up. If their journey off the island was anything like the one you'd just made, they definitely wouldn't last. The average human being wasn't nearly as sturdy as a thing like you. “Poor bastards… Ah well. They’re Davy Jones’s problem now.” You muttered with a half-smirk as you set off down the dock.


	2. All Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have some new and worrying experiences- assault with neon-colored sleepwear, among other things.

Night inside the city was more lively than you would have expected. Since the moment you’d arrived, this place was proving to be unusual in countless ways.

  
The cold mist surrounding the shore fell away abruptly upon reaching civilization, and the air here was hot from the long stretches of black asphalt having baked for hours in summer sunlight.

  
The streets were full of people, but clear of litter. The air smelled of cooking food, rather than decaying rubbish and broken dreams- like most large cities you’ve visited. It was curiously pristine.

  
Yet the energy in this place could have rivaled Mardi Gras in the Crescent City… or perhaps a victory celebration thrown by rampaging football hooligans. You were genuinely surprised at how few things were on fire.

  
You stood at the mouth of an alleyway, observing your surroundings and contemplating ways to get acclimated before going to work. Finding a place to rest was task number one.

  
Suddenly, a menacing presence rose up beside you, and out of shock, you smashed your still-damp self into the wall beside you. Shoulders hunched and eyes wide, you observed the thing that had just squelched into existence from a nearby portal.

  
He didn’t _look_ squelchy, but the air around him suggested otherwise… Whatever the white-clad humanoid was, he was a thing to be feared. Regardless of how friendly his smile appeared. “Well hello, my dear.” Said White Hat in a sugary tone. “I’ve been expecting you, I trust your voyage was a pleasant one?”

  
You stared back in silence, caught between a deep distrust of this being and the usual urge to be sarcastic.

  
White Hat merely shrugged, looking you over for a moment before speaking again. “You look terrible, darling. Come with me, and we’ll get you cleaned up.” He took you by the arm and turned back toward the portal. You pulled away, looking for an opening to flee as the panic started to rise.

  
“Come now,” White Hat chimed. “You can’t get to work looking like that, now can you?”

  
You faltered, noticing that the party in the nearby street had quieted considerably, and bystanders were backing slowly away at the sight of the white eldritch.

  
Effortlessly and with perfect grace, he lifted you by the waist and carried you through his conjured doorway.   
  


 

* * *

  
  
Later, in an opulent marble and gold bathroom, You found yourself in the clutches of one of the most horrifying beings you had ever encountered. Which said a lot, considering you had once been a resident of hell.

  
“It’s so soft and shiny!” Squealed Clemencia as she started to brush your newly washed hair. “What kind of shampoo do you use?! And… OH MY GOODNESS. Are these horns?!” She asked shrilly.

  
You winced. It was almost painful to look at this woman, and her voice was just as jarring. You elected not to answer, hoping she’d settle down.

  
White Hat entered the room as Clemencia quickly finished brushing out your hair. “Ladies, are you nearly finished? I can hardly contain my excitement at the…” He spun around suddenly, a hand over his eyes. “Egads, woman! Where are your clothes?!”

  
You tilted your head. He had insisted your clothes be taken and washed when he first brought you here. Before you could remind him of this fact, you found yourself being stuffed into a neon pink nightgown.  
  
“There! So cute…” Cooed Clemencia, before skipping out of the room, winking at White Hat as she passed.

  
“Ahem,” White Hat turned back slowly. “I mean no disrespect, you have a lovely form… But this is business!”

  
“Yeah, what… business?” You mumbled, adjusting the short sleeves of the nightgown. “There aren’t any dead people here.”

  
“Ah well, not _currently_ , but that’s what I expect you to change.” He said, eliciting a blank stare from you. “You see, I’d do it myself, but there is a certain image I strive to maintain. ‘Vigilante’ is not quite what I aim for.”

  
“… I think you’re confused. I may be a low level demon, but it’s not a murder-for-hire kind of thing.” You replied flatly.

  
He stared at you intensely for a moment. “No?”

  
“No. In fact I deal mainly with the already deceased-”

  
He cut you off with a snarl. “Listen, Imp!” He stopped himself and straightened back up. You had stumbled backward and now lay in a heap on the marble floor. This seemed to amuse him somewhat, at least.

  
“Listen,” He repeated more calmly, a smile touching his face. “Whether or not you’re here on other business is of no concern to me. This island may be best known by the actions of… my counterpart, but make no mistake..."

He bent down and offered a hand to help you up. "Order is maintained by _my_ organization. Not the police, not the military, but _me_.”

  
He waited a moment while you straightened yourself up. “You _are_ awfully cute for an insolent little beast,” He said thoughtfully. “But, oh! I need an employee, not a plaything.”

  
“A-All right…?” You said quietly, deciding to just go with it. You preferred not having your head bitten off. Figuratively or otherwise.

  
“Yes, so you see,” He continued, motioning for you to follow as he stepped out into the adjacent bedroom- which was just as grand as the rest of his home.

  
“I really couldn't care less why you were really sent here, or by whom. While you’re here, I need you to take to heart any… requests I make of you.”

  
He flashed you a grin, his pristine, razor sharp teeth both beautiful and threatening. “I’m in charge here, and I intend to make use of you, one way or another.”

  
You forced an agreeable smile in response, a shiver creeping through you.

  
White Hat said something about letting you getting some rest for tomorrow, before sweeping out into the hallway and slamming the heavy doors behind him.

  
Growling, you trudged over toward a large window, finding that it actually opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. You had half a mind to jump down and take off, but reason overtook your annoyance. 

  
You could handle being threatened, but threats spoken with a sincere smile always got your hair standing on end.

  
For a while you just stood there, fuming and feeling as though the entire city could see your shame and frustration. How lovely.


	3. Some Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just don't think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but the next chapter will follow right away!

A night of restless sleep followed your arrival on Hat Island. The bed was too soft, the enormous room like a cold gaping maw surrounding you. Tiring dreams came, filled with familiar faces long gone with the passage of time.

  
How long had you been like this? You struggled to understand everything and nothing in the span of seconds.

  
The haunting questions you tried so hard to squash were forcing their way to the surface. Why were you here? Why did you have this godforsaken mission to usher souls onto another plane? And why exactly were you so cross that White Hat was keeping you from it?

  
You awoke with a shrill gasp, digging your nails into the blankets as you stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling.

  
“I’ve only drawn the curtains.” Came a quiet voice. “Relax.”

  
You struggled a bit to get the covers off, feeling almost suffocated by them. “Who is it? What time… ugh” You muttered, sitting up and rubbing at your aching head.

  
“It’s late,” Replied the man, who slowly approached from where he stood near the window. “And I’m… well, an associate of White Hat. His lead scientist, to be precise.”

  
You frowned, studying him as he crept forward. From what you could tell, he was wearing a long black coat, red-tinted goggles and… a bag over his head? What? You rubbed your eyes, still groggy.

  
Leaning back against the headboard, you sighed, pulling a sheet up to cover yourself. You had shed Clemencia’s damned pink nightgown shortly after White Hat’s earlier departure.

  
As for this new visitor, you didn’t feel threatened at first- you got the sense he was only a human- and merely eyed him with mild curiosity.

  
“Not much of a talker?” Asked the man, stopping at your bedside and switching on a nearby lamp. “That’s good I suppose.” He held out a gloved hand. “My name is Slug. Doctor. Slug.”

  
You turned slightly and took his hand to shake it, only to have your arm twisted painfully as he pinned you onto the bed and climbed up to straddle your legs.

  
“What-?!” You yelped, but he quickly covered your mouth with his free hand.

  
“What, indeed. I’ll tell you, little… reaper, was it? The boss said we’d be having an unusual guest.”

  
You laid still and stared up in silence, waiting for him to get to the point. He removed his hand from your mouth and reached into a coat pocket.

  
“Well, I must admit I’ve been eager to pay you a visit. As a man of science I’m curious about the sort of _thing_ you are. Decidedly not an average human female.” He drew a small glass syringe from his coat and held it up for her to see.

  
“Seeing as we need you in good condition for the job…” He continued, leaning back and effectively pinning your legs down. “A small sample will have to do for now. But let me be perfectly clear,” He uncapped the tiny needle and buried it in your neck.

  
“Should you decide against following the boss’s orders,” He paused pulling the plunger back as you gasped. “I fully intend to keep you as my own personal _pin cushion_.”

  
“God _TITS_ ,” You groaned once he withdrew the needle. “You sure like to draw things out, don’t you?” 

  
“Of course. It’s not likely I’ll get another chance to torment you… Isn't that right?” He asked pointedly, and capped the needle, returning the now blood-filled syringe to his pocket.

  
“… Yeah, yeah.” You grimaced, your free hand moving to the wet spot on your neck. “I’ll do the job, just….”

  
“Yes?” He pushed your hand aside and applied a small bandage.

  
“If you’re not going to take advantage, would you mind easing up on me?”

  
Dr. Slug stared for a long moment, still pressed heavily against you where he sat. “Hmm…”

  
You raised an eyebrow. This could go either way.

  
“…No,” He finally said, climbing down from the bed. “This sort of situation doesn’t… _interest_ me.”

  
“Had me fooled, damn it.” You muttered as he headed for the door.

He paused as though wanting to say something in reply, but decided against it and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HNNNNG I'm sorry
> 
> there will be smut soon!


	4. Short Skirt, Long Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walls have eyes.
> 
> TW: brief description of physical torture

Anguished screams seemed to fill the entirety of White Hat’s manor. You groaned as you stepped into the hallway, rubbing your aching head.

  
You’d been having trouble sleeping _before_ Slug paid a visit, but leaving so abruptly after the… _stunt_ he pulled? Well, that was just rude. You’d had to finger yourself near-relentlessly to release the tension… You… May have been neglecting those needs for a while.

  
But now, a different kind of tension troubled you. What _was_ that horrid noise? You followed it through the lavish, maze-like hallways, not encountering another soul as you went. 

  
You had to admire White Hat’s taste. The polished hardwood floors gleamed under natural daylight and plush rugs. The pristine white walls were all crowned with crystal clear skylights…  all of them. A feature that shouldn't be possible given the apparent size and shape of the structure viewed from the outside. 

  
You smiled to yourself. It was refreshing to encounter such a _pleasing_ anomaly for once. The atmosphere in this place was only sullied by that wretched howling.

  
At last you found the source: a young man strapped asylum-style to a gurney, having his extremities mutilated. As you watched, White Hat snapped one of the man’s fingers backward and smiled sweetly, as though having a friendly chat over tea.

  
“Ah, my dear,” Said White Hat, his eyes lighting up when he spotted you. “You’re awake!”

  
“Yes… Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt this… casual torture session you seem to be conducting…” You said evenly.

  
“Oh, not to worry! This is just a low-level mutilation.” He chimed, gliding over to you. “Villain or no, employees sometimes need to be reminded of their place. That’s all~”

  
“Aha…” You glanced once more at the man, who was breathing raggedly but making no attempt to escape or cry for help. 

  
“Today is the day, at long last!” White Hat sang, ushering you out of the room and closing the door behind him. “The… ahem, nuisance I mentioned requires an inhuman assassin, and as I said I simply cannot do the deed myself.”

  
You raised an eyebrow, finding it very heard to believe that he couldn’t perform any act of violence he so pleased. “Ooookay…?”

  
“And as for compensation…” He stopped at the top of a grand staircase. “We can discuss it afterward, if that’s all right?”

  
“Compensation…?” You said thoughtfully. You had not expected any after having been threatened into compliance twice already.

  
“Yes, perhaps next time you find yourself _frustrated_ , I could lend you my assistance.” He chuckled gaily. “I’m quite skilled, so I'm told… and I _guarantee_ you’ll sleep better!”

  
You cringed visibly at his apparent knowledge of your private time the previous night, and didn’t say anything.

  
“Ah, but you were lovely, nothing to be embarrassed about! Now, we will need to properly dress you before you… embark.”  
  


 

* * *

  
  
White Had hat given you a thick envelope with the details of your job, and left you once again in the clutches of Clemencia to be clothed. 

  
Obnoxious as she was, Clemencia at least seemed to be observant enough to notice your distaste at the brightly colored nightgown she'd given you the night before. She had the good sense this time to present a simple garment: a small, dark-grey tank dress and black flats.

  
“It’s not the sort of thing I would choose…” Clemencia sighed, reaching into a rack of nearby clothes. “But White said you shouldn't dress to stand out.”  

  
“Thanks, this is perfect actually.” You replied, slipping quickly into the dress.

  
She pulled a plain black coat from the rack, frowning as she handed it to you. “He wanted me to give you this, too. Dunno why.”

  
The coat had long sleeves, a large hood, and it nearly reached the floor when you donned it. You threw your head back and cackled, startling Clemencia. “Perfect,” You said again. The long black cloak was a ridiculous stereotype, but you loved it.

  
You gave yourself another glance in the mirror before turning to your companion. You were feeling eager to leave and get this all over with, but Clemencia clearly had something on her mind. 

  
“So, um!” She burst out. “I gotta know… do you _like_ Slug, or are you just having a dry spell? ‘Cause-“

  
Whatever semblance of a good mood you had withered away instantly, and you cringed hard again. Did everyone in the house know about that?!

  
“SUITCASE!” You yowled, silencing Clemencia. 

  
“What…?”

  
“Ineedasuitcase!” You improvised. “For the um, you know. Corpse… bits and whatnot.”

  
“Oh, I see!” The unicorn girl chimed. “Yes, it will be much easier to carry that way! I’ll go find one…”

  
You grabbed the envelope and raced out of the manor the second Clemencia had vanished. Compensation or no, you didn’t intend to return to that particular mad house… If you could help it.


	5. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many smells... 
> 
> TW: someone croaks, not graphic

The contents of the envelope were extremely detailed. You grimaced in annoyance after reading through all of it. Seemed to you that gathering all this intel must’ve taken more effort than just whacking a guy.

  
You heaved a sigh, stuffing the papers back into your coat pocket. 

  
You had ducked into a diner earlier, after feeling satisfied Clemencia wouldn’t easily find you. It was just a little dive, but a good one for you to sit and wait until nightfall. Plus, there was free coffee. Terrible bean water really, but still free.

  
Once the sky had darkened enough, you stepped back into the street and started walking. There were all kinds of weirdos here: unwashed vagabonds, costumed cronies… you could go unnoticed here with relative ease. 

  
An ease with which you slid into the establishment indicated on the paper now crumpled in your pocket.

  
The place seemed to be a mishmash of indeterminable businesses, but to the average person it would’ve looked just like a gentleman’s club. You winced at the swirling smells that hit you in waves; smoke, perfume, booze, sex, and most alarmingly, death.

  
There were few physical perks to being the type of demon you were. One was a heightened sense of smell, and you often found that was more of a nuisance than a benefit.

  
You leaned up against a wall and glanced around the room, searching for anyone who appeared… out of phase. The place was busy but not crowded, so you figured if there _were_ ghosts hanging around here, you’d be able to pick them out and help them on their way before tending to your _other_ assignment. Before long however, someone else caught your eye. 

  
A towering hulk of a man sat against the far back wall, his eerie bluish skin and tiny horns giving him a distinctly inhuman appearance. You were beginning to understand why White Hat insisted that a regular human assassin just wouldn’t do. 

  
He was called Conroy, a thug hailing from the French Quarter. A Jack-of-all-trades in the crime world, he’d moved to Hat Island for bigger opportunities, supposedly. You didn't bother trying to understand the crook- you didn’t care- what really puzzled you was the smaller man sitting at the table beside him.

  
You edged forward, past some of the other patrons in order to get a better look. You had to stop and remove your coat, as it kept being snagged and stepped on as you went. As you drew ever closer, you were sure the man wearing a paper bag on his head could only be one person. 

  
Much to your surprise, it wasn’t. You hadn’t been aware that paper bags were now a regular fashion choice.

  
Once you got a good look at him, hunched over, sickly thin, and smelling of sweat and exhaustion, you realized it couldn’t have been… You’d seen Slug the previous night, looking perfectly healthy and smelling quite nice… you stopped dead in your tracks and inwardly kicked yourself for letting your thoughts go that direction.

  
“Looks like you have an admirer.” Rumbled Conroy. You didn’t realize you’d been staring, and gave a shocked ‘ _EEP_!’ when he cupped your ass in one massive hand, bringing you closer to the table where they sat.

  
“Wh-Who, me?” Asked the smaller man with a jaunty giggle. “I doubt that…”

  
“Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. _Well_?” 

  
Another little squeal escaped you when he gave a friendly squeeze. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d been mistaken for a lady of the evening, and given the fact that this would actually make your job easier, you decided to play along. You were certainly _intrigued_ , after all…

  
“Oh, of course, sweetheart.” You said as sweetly as you could, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table in such a way that accentuated your breasts. “You look like you could use some… T.L.C.?”

  
“Come on, Flug! We’re celebrating, right?! It’s my treat...” Insisted Conroy. 

  
“Aw, well…” Murmured Flug, reaching out and gently tugging at one of your horns until you moved closer and gingerly sat on his lap. “Th-That’s cute. I may j-just be intoxicated enough to t-take you up on it…”

  
With a toast and a massive swig from his drink, Conroy belted out a celebratory howl. The sound was echoed by the other more rowdy patrons around you, so no one seemed to notice when he folded head-first onto the table, bisecting it with a terrible _crack_. 

  
“Doesn’t have much of a head for it, does he?” Flug said quietly, absentmindedly stroking at your hair. He almost seemed like he was waiting for something. 

  
You glanced up at him, then at the unconscious thug in silence. Now would be the time to make your move, if you could just incapacitate Flug for a moment…

  
“Oh, don’t worry,” Flug said suddenly. “I’ve taken care of it for you. The Boss man would be annoyed if you ended up being _White’s_ servant.”

  
You slowly returned your gaze to the man who was now holding a lock of your hair a little too tightly. The smell of his general fatigue had distracted you from the fact that there was actually no alcohol on his breath.

  
 _That_ was a grave misjudgment on your part.


	6. What You Know

You sat squashed against the backseat door of what Flug referred to as the “Hat-mobile”. Not for lack of space, but rather out of sheer disconcertion toward the man sitting at the other end of the cab, who was now calmly tapping his fingers together and humming as though he _hadn’t_ just killed a man. What was that White Hat said about a human not being capable…?

  
You both sat in relative silence as some manner of robotic butler drove the car. While you fretted over the events of the past several hours and all their implications, Dr. Flug seemed almost… cheerful in his posture and quiet humming. 

  
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to finally meet you,” He said after a few minutes. “When the Boss man heard you were coming, he insisted I track you down! Haha… I… I haven’t slept in a while. Maybe now I can get a couple of hours!”

  
You eyed him warily, saying nothing. There was something about him that you’d never encountered in anyone else. Something writhing and chaotic about his tenor that most people wouldn’t be able to tolerate- at least not while retaining any semblance of sanity. And all that was wrapped up in the guise of a cute little nerd wearing a bag on his head.

  
After another moment of silence, you tried to say something. “Your boss… knew about me?”

  
“Oh, goodness yes!” He replied giddily, appearing thrilled that you’d finally spoken. “He has a sense about things… about a lot of things…” He trailed off.

  
“…How…?” You ventured.

  
“Well… He’s Black Hat. You know… he just. Knows.”

  
“…Interesting.” You murmured, looking him over with combined fascination and bewilderment. “And White Hat-?”

  
“Better not to mention him!” He cut you off. “Or his underlings… The Boss man still disciplines me because of what happened that time.”

  
Your eyes widened. “What. What happened?”

  
“Oh, there was a whole mixup with an old hand mirror and a bottle opener-  AH! Best not to mention that either!” 

  
You watched in amusement as he went from a cheerful demeanor to that of a squirrel on a highway in a matter of seconds.

  
There was still a niggling feeling that something about this man was horribly wrong, but you found yourself relaxing enough to calmly reevaluate your situation.

  
It seemed as though you were out of White Hat’s worryingly sweet clutches, the target he’d indicated was now dead, and you owed him nothing. It would be best to forget him for the time being… it wasn't much off your mind, but it was something.

 

* * *

  
  
The enormous front doors of Hat Manor swung open silently, and the wind seemed to suck you in. Shivering, you pulled your coat back on and folded your arms. This place sucked the warmth out of you immediately upon reaching the doorstep.

  
Flug had taken up a cheerful tone once more. “Here we are! I do hope the Boss man is in an agreeable mood… _Jefecito_?” Called Flug, his voice echoing. “Ahem… I’ve found the one you asked for!”

  
The walls distorted his voice, and the entire manor seemed to moan as though being disturbed from sleep. 

  
This place was on another level of scary, but none of its physical features could hold your attention as a chorus of deafening cries filled your ears like a frigid torrent.

  
You stared upward at the ceiling as it appeared to stretch away from you, and for a long moment you felt lost in every sense of the word.

  
“What was your name again? Hello…?” Asked Flug, his hand on your shoulder snapping you out of it. 

  
You grabbed his twig-thin wrist harshly, feeling overcome with emotions that didn’t belong to you. “What the hell is this place?!” You demanded.

  
Another voice scraped across your eardrums and you recoiled, letting go of Flug. “You’re _finally_ here!,” It said.

  
All you could do was cower as Black Hat materialized from everywhere and nowhere to assault you with his maddening gaze. “It’s about _bloody_ time. Where have you been!?”

  
You merely stared back, unaware that you had been expected to appear for an audience with the living embodiment of evil. You realized it then- never before had you wanted so desperately to attack someone, while simultaneously french kissing their ass.

  
“Sssssssorry?” Was all you could muster, your face red with frustration. 

  
He regarded you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I’m late for a rather sizable sacrifice,” He muttered while moving toward the door, his cape flowing dramatically behind him. “Just do your bloody job. Flug, you will assist her.”

  
And with that he vanished, though the doors didn’t appear to move at all. You turned back to the Doctor, now a trembling mess, to find he was staring wide-eyed at you.

  
“H-H-He… d-didn’t even… in-insult you…” Flug gulped. “What… What are you…?”

  
“I’m sure he’ll get around to it. He did say he was running late.” You took a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “So, about my job…” How should you put this. “I’m here because of… I mean, maybe you’ve noticed something akin to a haunting…?”

  
His trembling let up slowly. “Oh… I don’t think so… but the Boss man does scold me for what he calls ‘the dissonant screeching that assails his very being at all hours’… Is that what you mean?”

  
“You mean you can’t hear it? Or see anything unusual at all?”

  
“No, I suppose I’m often distracted by other terrible things.” He gave a weak chuckle. “And... I fail to see how anything paranormal would be _my_ fault…”

  
You fixed him with an intense stare as he glanced around, wringing his gloved hands. That must be what felt so aberrant about this man. It was a rare thing among humans, and you’d not encountered it for yourself before now. 

  
He was a serial killer, and likely an especially twisted one at that- if the sheer number of tormented souls about was anything to go by.

  
Come to think of it, you _had_ found it a little odd that you’d not encountered any since you reached the island. The horrors taking place here had created a vortex that likely ensnared any and all newly-deads for miles.

  
But, it wasn’t in you to judge him. In fact, you felt even more intrigued as you observed his nervous ticks, in contrast to what you knew he could really be. This place was heavy and unpleasant, but you had an interesting companion in him, and at least now your purpose was clear.


	7. Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You encounter a fellow weirdo, and proceed to scare the ever-loving hell out of her. You're so good at making friends!

The task of informing the dead that they were indeed just that, was often unpleasant for those in your occupation. You were aware that different reapers dealt with different levels of tragedy, and you had to admit yours was among the easiest of jobs.

  
By the time someone like _you_ showed up, the dead had been that way for some time, and were very much ready to move on. They rarely resisted your aid. Most were even glad to see you.

  
This situation differed greatly from the norm. If there was such a thing. You were going to try your best, anyway.

  
“A large doorway somewhere on the south side of the manor would work best,” You said, hoping Flug could point you in the right direction.

  
“I don’t understand,” He fretted. “Boss man _dispatches_ just as many people as I do… how am _I_ the one to blame?”

  
You suspected that Black Hat killed more quickly and cleanly, likely out of necessity in many cases. Most people wouldn’t blame a predator for hunting its prey, or a person for squashing a parasite. Or maybe he just consumed the souls to begin with. You weren’t even going to _try_ to understand.

  
“Hey, calm down,” You turned to him and grasped his arms to more effectively hold his attention. “I’m not here to pass judgement, okay?”

  
He reflexively stiffened when you grabbed him, but seemed to calm down a little at your words. “O-okay…”

  
The poor idiot. You kind of wanted wrap him in a hug and squeeze all the terror out of him. You couldn’t figure out why, but you sensed a kindred spirit in the little weirdo.

  
“So… a doorway?” You asked gently, letting go of him. 

  
He raised a hand to his bag in a thoughtful pose. “Well… I suppose the largest door in the house would be in the lab downstairs…”

  
You followed him through a downward-sloping hallway, where the manor’s elegant black and grey wallpaper gave way to smooth white panels. The smell of oil and chemicals crept up on you the further down you went.

  
“I apologize for the mess…” Flug said nervously, glancing at you as he led the way through a set of swinging doors. 

  
You were greeted by the sight of the brightly lit laboratory, hard-edged and shiny, full of varying sizes of machines and stacks of documents laying about… and curiously, only the faintest smell of blood. At least he knew how to clean up after himself. 

  
“Looks fine to me,” You said with a smile, stepping forward to inspect the doorway at the other end of the room.

  
You had to focus on your objective here, but you found yourself terribly curious about the items laying about… You weren’t above a little snooping, but there was a job to be done, you reminded yourself. All you had to do was open a door.  
  
“That leads to the garage…” Flug said. You hadn’t noticed him following close behind you, and you hoped he didn’t catch onto your curiosity regarding his work.  
  
“Oh!” You jumped a little. “That’s fine… yes, this will work.”  
  
The doorway in question was quite large, and closed in the middle by two heavy steel panels which slid apart when Flug flipped a nearby switch. As you stepped closer, a figure dropped down inches in front of you. She cackled as you leapt back like a cat just noticing a rogue cucumber.

  
“Demencia, no!!” Cried Flug.

  
What did he say? _Demencia_? You stiffened, remembering her counterpart in the unicorn hoodie. How much worse could this girl be?

  
“What the hey-hey, Flug-bug?” Demencia demanded, hands on her hips. “You were walkin’ so close to her, I thought you were gonna knife her for sure!”

  
“Wh-wh-what do you mean?” He stuttered, glancing toward you nervously as Demencia began sniffing at you.

  
“Well it’s just, that’s what you usually do to anyone who comes in here.” She leaned in even closer to you. “‘Cept me. I’m knife-proof.”

  
You smiled back into her wild eyes. “Really?” You asked, already deciding that you liked this girl better. She was weird, like you.

  
“Regrettably, she is…” Sighed Flug, tugging Demencia away by her arm. “Demencia, this is Boss man’s guest… ah…”

  
He looked awkwardly at you, remembering once again that he didn’t know your name. You just laughed and introduced yourself.

  
“Haha, weird name!” Demencia responded, pointing to your horns. “But the weirdest thing is your head. Are those real?!”

  
“Yeah, I stole them from the last goat who insulted my mama.” You joked, picking up on her energy. 

  
“ _Goat_ horns?! Okay!!” She lowered her head and scraped one foot backwards, like she was ready to charge. “BUTT ME!”

  
You dodged as she flew past you. “What did you say?!” You laughed.

  
“Oh no… Demencia, please!” Flug yelped. “She has a job to do before the Boss man returns…!”

  
The lizard girl skidded to a halt and looked back at him. “Black Hat has a job for _her_?! No way… it better be nerd stuff that I don’t wanna do, or we’re gonna have a problem, sister.” She said, squinting at you.  
  
You just smiled again. “Nerd stuff… ha. Maybe it is.”  
  


 

* * *

  
  
The entire house bellowed when the air started to move, and an icy draft tore its way through the halls. You’d opened the door- or perhaps ‘portal’ was the better word- using the door frame of the garage entrance. A sizable effort on your part, and you were thoroughly pleased by the outcome. 

  
Further brightening your mood were the looks of overwhelming awe and terror that moved across Demencia’s face. She was very expressive… it was fun to watch. Flug just seemed bewildered, and more concerned with his documents flying about the room.

  
After a few long moments the gusts let up, and the metaphysical doorway slammed shut. Took a while to finally get to, but the job was easy. You wanted to ask Demencia what she thought, but before you could she was belting out a horrified screech and scurrying out of the lab.

  
You heard a faint but distinct crash somewhere else in the manor. 

  
“Why can’t she use the door…” Flug groaned behind arms full of paper. 

  
“Huh! I wouldn’t have expected that reaction from someone like her!” You mused, going over to help him with the documents. 

  
“What do you mean? You think maybe she saw something?” He sighed, dropping the stack on a nearby table. “I only felt a breeze…”

  
“Yes, many people’s ability to see spirits is usually tied to how afraid they are of them.” 

  
He stared at you in surprise. “Are you saying. Demencia is afraid of ghosts?” He gave a hooting laugh as he dropped into an office chair. “Of all things…!”

  
You had to agree on the hilarity of it, and laughed with him for a while. When he finally calmed down and leaned back into his chair, you were fighting back a yawn. This day had been entirely too long.

  
“If you’re done, you may as well rest.” He said kindly, noticing your sleepiness. “The Boss man won’t be back until dawn.”

  
“Sounds great,” You replied.

  
He got to his feet and led you out of the lab, back up into the main house. On the main floor was a narrow hallway lined with modestly-sized bedrooms, which Flug explained were for guests. 

  
He opened one of the heavy dark-wood doors and clicked on a light. The room housed a very soft looking full-sized bed, an elegantly carved wooden armoire, and a bedside lamp. It was dark and cozy, you thought with a smile.

  
“There’s a bathroom though that other door.” Flug said, gesturing. 

  
“Thank you!” You said, opening the door and peeking inside. “I definitely need a shower…”

  
You flicked the bathroom light on and turned back to see him hovering awkwardly in the doorway. “Dr. Flug…?”  
  
He jumped. “Y-Yes?” 

  
“I mean this with as much kindness as possible; you need one too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay tuned for the smut


	8. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flug's attitude can about-face in an instant. It's a little scary... you like it.
> 
> TW: ...SEX

If there was one thing that being back from the dead taught you, it was to take your chances with people. There wasn’t time to beat around the bush when death was always poised nearby. Besides, the worst he could do was say no, right? You pushed _that_ thought away immediately.

  
“Aha… what do you mean?” He asked nervously. “I mean, I probably _should_ bathe, I mean I know that- I mean… what?”

  
You smirked, unable to stop yourself. His awkwardness was all kinds of endearing. He’d probably have many admirers, were he not so prone to killing people.

  
“You just… looked like you didn’t want to leave,” You suggested, creeping a little closer. “So I’m inviting you to stay.”

  
He looked at you, then down at his feet. You could see the faintest blush touching his neck as he seemed to be mulling it over. “I um… I don’t want to leave…”

  
You smiled again and slowly backed him up against the door, pushing it shut as you went. He trembled a little against your touch as you leaned into him and gently kissed his neck. 

  
He reached up and put his hands on your shoulders. “I um… I’m sorry… but I would prefer t-to keep the bag on…” He mumbled.

  
“That’s okay,” You said nuzzling him, while slipping the flats off your feet. 

  
“I-It is…?” He blinked, watching you as you backed up a little to remove your coat.

  
“Of course, whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

  
He exhaled shakily, removing his gloves. “Okay…” He said, following you over to the bed. 

  
You sat on the edge and looked up at him, and reached down to lift the hem of your dress ever so slightly. He stopped in front of you, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart. You blushed, surprised at this sudden forwardness.

  
“It- it’s been a while, truth be told…” He gulped, easing you onto your back. “But even so. I’m not very good at…ah…”

  
A little moan escaped him when you moved your hips to brush him through his jeans. Oh good, seemed he was just as impatient as you were…

  
You beamed up at him, watching eagerly as he went about unbuttoning his trousers. “Yes?” You asked.

  
He slid his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his erection. You felt absolutely thrilled at the sight of him, and had to stop yourself from drooling… At least you managed to keep your mouth from drooling, anyway. 

  
“I apologize in advance,” He took another slow, shaky breath. “I understand I’m not very good at this. I guess I never needed to be.”

  
You tilted your head in a questioning sort of way, but he just shook his head and reached into his coat pocket, drawing a small box cutter which he brought to your hip. Another thrill washed over you as he jerked it back, cutting your panties away from you in one clean motion. You gasped as the blade nicked you.

  
“Sorry, force of habit, I guess…” He said quietly, grasping your hips and pulling you close until your lips pressed against the head of his throbbing cock.

  
You were so eager to feel him, that statement almost passed you by. Almost. “Wait… what?” 

  
The next second he was in you, his entire length forced inside with one harsh thrust. Any notice of his abrupt change in manner vanished and you moaned loudly, inwardly praising whatever forces would listen. God _damn_ it had been much too long.

  
He took no time to prepare you for him, but you found your lust overpowering the discomfort, and welcomed the pain as it added to your pleasure.

  
“Does… that… _hurt_?” He asked between thrusts. 

  
You reached up and grasped fistfuls of his white coat to steady yourself. “Yes, Doctor… don’t stop…!” You replied breathily. 

  
This seemed to really spur him on, and his movements became more aggressive. You were pleasantly surprised at his strength, and encouraged him with gleeful little moans as he continued to fuck you. 

  
His hands felt firm and coarse on your hips, and pain began to gather under his grip the longer you both went. You suspected some bruises might be in your future.

  
After several long, glorious minutes, he slowed and lifted one knee onto the bed, and moved your legs to his shoulders. You panted beneath him, noticing with delight the moisture gathering on his bag. 

  
At once he picked up the pace again, angling your hips upward as he plowed into you. This new position shot new waves of heat through you, and you cried out, begging for more. He was much quieter that you were, his moans sounding more like growls than anything, but his quickening pace was beginning to feel desperate, and you knew he was almost finished.

  
A fuzzy wave of pure bliss drowned you all at once, and you cried out once more as your entire body tightened around him.  

  
“I’m… going… to… come!” He groaned, halting his motions and pushing himself deep into your spasming pussy. 

  
You lay perfectly still for him, breathing heavily as he gave you his load. Then, ever so slowly, he began to pull back. “Hmmm…” he sighed, admiring you for a moment as his seed slowly flowed out of you.  
  


* * *

  
  
Some time later, you stood in the shower under a flow of cool water. It had taken a few minutes for your legs to allow you to stand, but you finally managed to walk to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

  
“Aha… we definitely need showers now…” Flug had said once you both came down from your respective highs. 

  
You wished he would’ve stayed a while- you had to admit you rather liked to cuddle- but he insisted it would be better to get cleaned up quickly, and hurried away after wishing you goodnight. 

  
Perhaps he just didn't want to answer any of your questions about the ‘force of habit’ he mentioned. You just smirked to yourself as he had returned to his usual nervous demeanor. He had gotten rough with you and you would live to see another day. You guessed you didn’t really _need_ an explanation…


	9. Out Through The Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may have screwed the pooch. Nice work!
> 
> TW: brief description of grievous bodily harm

You had fallen asleep within minutes of lying down, and this time had no trouble resting. The day had been all kinds of shock and confusion, but you were pleased with the way it had ultimately ended.

  
It was only a few hours before you awoke again and, unable to get back to sleep, decided to get dressed. A nice morning walk would be just the thing, after all the stress you’d endured over the past few days. 

  
As you donned your clothes from the day before, you remembered with a twinge of annoyance that your panties were ruined. Guess you were going commando today. Lovely. You pulled your long black coat on and buttoned the front, before slipping on your shoes and leaving the room.

  
The manor was still and silent as you crept into the main hall. You could see from a nearby hole in the wall that dawn was slowly approaching. With a smile you headed for the door, wondering whether Demencia had come back yet.

  
As you stepped outside, a distinct chill struck you like a hanging branch in dark woods. 

  
“Hello…? Can... can you hear me?” Asked a woman’s voice.

  
You sighed, having foolishly hoped to get some time off after everything that had happened. But no, people dropped like flies on this island, after all.

  
“Yes, I can hear you. Do you need help?” You responded.

  
“Oh thank goodness! Everyone’s been ignoring me since the incident with the bus… I DO need help!”

  
You started walking, thinking it would be wise to remove yourself before anyone _living_ caught sight of you at Black Hat’s door.

  
You went through the usual spiel with this lady as you walked; did she realize the bus had killed her, yes she was really dead, yes you were quite sure of that fact, yadda yadda.

  
When she finally stated that she “couldn’t just leave now”, you grimaced. You hated slamming the door on these people, but unfinished business wasn’t your department.

  
You turned and saw her hovering behind you, looking bent and broken at every angle. It was unfortunate how these tragic cases often kept their appearance at their last breath. Though this woman looked like a bloody sack of broken glass, she wasn't among the most gruesome you'd encountered. 

  
“I’m sorry,” You said steadily, preparing to either leave her there or break the news that nothing really mattered in the face of time, when something caught your eye. 

  
Rather, several eyes had caught sight of you. At least a dozen half-transparent forms then began approaching, murmuring tales of grieving family members and petty regrets. Something akin to panic overcame you and without thinking, you turned and ran.

  
This shouldn’t be happening, right? You racked your brain for past experiences and found no other instances of the disembodied dead swarming like this. Another pang of fear hit you when the voices grew in volume, much like they had yesterday, when you first arrived at Hat Manor. 

  
Screeching to a halt on a street corner, you turned and shrieked that you couldn’t help them like this. That something was horribly wrong, and you were sorry-

  
The breath was knocked clean out of you as someone suddenly snatched you into the back of a white van.

  
“What are you doing?!” Clemencia demanded shrilly, slamming the door shut as the van jerked into motion. 

  
You could only choke on your terror and confusion, trying desperately to catch your breath. The arms that had grabbed you from behind grew tighter around your midsection, which didn’t help at all.

  
“Why didn't you come back?!” Came Slug’s voice. “I was worried about you, damn it!”

  
 _He_ was _worried_? What’s up with that? You gasped a few times, unable to calm yourself. After another moment of struggling, you heard him speak again.

  
“Here, this will help.” He sighed, plunging a needle into your arm and steadying you as you fell mercifully into unconsciousness.   
  


* * *

  
  
You groaned, struggling against the hot, humid fog that surrounded you. Something cold and wet touched your forehead, and you were suddenly awake.

  
You found yourself back in bed at White Hat’s home, with three sets of eyes staring curiously down at you. Slug and Clemencia looked concerned, but White’s expression was unreadable.

  
All you could do was heave a sigh and cover your face. You didn’t know what to say. You’d really kind of hoped you were done with this place, but you had to admit you were relieved to see familiar faces.

  
“… Are you all right, my dear?” Asked White Hat after a moment. “Why on earth were you wailing in the streets like that?”

  
You just shook your head, at a loss for how to explain yourself. Slug removed the wet cloth from your forehead and sighed. 

  
“At least she’s calmed down.” He said, adjusting his goggles. “Someone should probably keep an eye on her, though…”

  
“I second that,” Said White Hat rather suddenly. “Go about your business, you two. I’d like to have a word with our guest.”

  
Once Slug and Clemencia had exited- rather hesitantly it seemed- White Hat moved closer to you and sat on the edge of the bed, once again examining you with an incomprehensible expression.

  
“Whatever you did inside Black Hat’s manor seems to have upset something in the balance on this island.”

  
You sat up quickly, trying to think of some explanation but still were unable to. He raised an eyebrow at you, as though waiting for you to speak. 

  
“I… I’m… sorry…” Was all you could manage, your body seeming to wilt as you leaned back on the headboard, defeated. You passively noticed you were wearing that damn pink nightgown again. Damn it.

  
“I’m sure you had good intentions,” White Hat said patiently. “And I do understand that not everything is black and white- if you’ll pardon the humor. But there are times when it’s best to… what’s the phrase? Let sleeping dogs lie?”

  
You lifted your gaze to him, silently wondering why he was being so nice to you. He had seemed awfully proud to declare that _he_ was the sole reason for balance here, so shouldn't he be furious that you’d fucked something up?

  
“Not to worry,” He said, grinning. “You’re back now, and we’ll be sure to keep a close eye on you. Things will return to their proper state in time.”

  
You immediately picked up on the veiled threat in his words. If he intended to ‘keep a close eye on you’, there would surely be all kinds of unpleasantness in your future. 

  
He reached out and gave you a hardy pat on the arm, before sweeping out of the room. Once he was gone you flopped onto your side and curled into a ball, silently wishing your existence could be put on hold. 

  
All you could to was lie there, staring blankly at the lines of sunlight that crept in under the curtains. After a while you nodded off.


	10. -End notes, divergent sequels

I've gotten your feedback, thank you to all who contacted me!

There was no consensus, unfortunately. But, I've decided to try exploring both fluffy and gory routes. Let's see how this goes LOL

This is the end of Psychopomp, and the sequels will be as follows:

 

 **[The Apprentice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460731/) ** \- includes graphic and personal violence, non-con/dub-con situations, and other demonic business on Black Hat's side.

 **[Appropriate Violence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461022/)**  - fluff with White Hat and Crew, there are still be times of violence and conflict but not always in the forefront.


End file.
